Little Lion
by IAlreadyHaveAPlan
Summary: "In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight...". A short but moving one shot of Quinn and Noah losing their little girl. My girlfriend asked me to write something to bring her to tears, and this was the result.


He couldn't do this.

Noah stepped into the abandoned room, closing his eyes to remove the images that bought back countless memories. The crib that he'd spent two days assembling, Quinn singing 'Noah, the builder, can he build it? Noah, the builder, no he can't!' in an effort to spite him. The walls, splattered with the paint the pair had thrown everywhere in the midst of an all out paint fight, Quinn choosing to keep it up because it would keep the joy and happiness of that moment for their child. The hanging mobile that Rachel had bought them.

He didn't know why he did it. It was torture, surely, for him to do this to himself.

Regardless, Noah walked over to the mobile and with shaking hands, wound up the nob.

He leant against the cot, slowly sliding down its length as the music filled his ears.

"_In the jungle, the mighty jungle,_

_The lion sleeps tonight,_

_In the jungle, the quiet jungle,_

_The lion sleeps tonight"_

He had known something wasn't right. He wasn't really one for all those feelings women got over things. Inter…inta…intu something. Intuition? Intuition. So when Quinn rolled onto her side to prod him awake in the early hours of the morning, he dismissed her concerns that something was wrong with a tender hand through her hair. Regardless, he reluctantly drew himself out of bed and slipped out to his daughters room.

The moment his hand touched the closed door, he could feel it. Death was a presence, not a concept, and this was the proof. He could _feel_ it. Slowly he opened the door, stepping into the too silent room. Too still. Too empty.

Gradually, the body of his beloved daughter came into view. With each step he could see Beth's small form, her tiny hands curled up into fists, the little lion jumpsuit warming her body.

But there was no rise and fall of her chest, no muffled sounds of breathing from lungs which had barely taken breaths at all.

Noah simply stood over the cradle, his eyes on the still form of Beth.

The Quinn's small voice came from the door.

"Everything okay? Are you watching our little lion sleep?"

And the young man turned around. And Quinn knew.

The blonde rushed forward, a strangled scream emanating from within her somewhere as she pushed Puck to the side, scooping up her daughter. Their daughter.

He stumbled backwards, both hands now pressed against his forehead, eyes wide. Breathing was suddenly the only thing in his world. And pain.

Pain that made his legs buckle underneath him, bringing him down to join Quinn on the ground. The girl was hunched over, Beth pressed against her chest as screams filled the room. They voiced the agony in Noah, anguish so raw it radiated from his soul and burned through his bones.

It felt like an eternity until Quinn's screams finally dulled to sobs, fading to silent tears before nothing. Nothing. Even with the three of them in the brightly decorated room, there was no life. Not anymore.

Silence was the only thing living in the house now.

Until Quinn finally uncurled herself, back resting against the crib. Noah took this as a sign to leave Quinn for a moment alone. Endlessly thankful that his legs could carry him long enough to exit the room, he closed the door behind him before sliding down it, palms pressed into his eyes and teeth gritted as he desperately fought back tears.

Until he heard it. Quinn's voice. Singing.

Then suddenly a heavy sob tore through his chest, quickly followed by another. Before he knew it hot tears were covering his face, hands curled into fists by his side as he hung his head and simply cried.

"_Near the village, the peaceful village,_

_The lion sleeps tonight,_

_Near the village, the peaceful village,_

_The lion sleeps tonight"_

The mobile finished its song, bringing Noah out of his trance. He knew what he had to do, knew what Quinn had begged of him. It didn't make it any easier.

Raising to his feet, he walked over to the window, opening the curtains and allowing light to stream into the room for the first time in three months. Three months since their world had changed forever, three months since anybody had dared enter this room. Three months since light had broken into the settled darkness of their lives.

Noah drew the thick paintbrush from the white paint and began to work. He gently placed all the stuffed toys into boxes. He took down the mobile and dissembled the crib.

By the end of it, the room glowed in the light of the setting sun. A bare room, floorboards radiating in sunlight and walls a pure white.

Noah stood by the door, the last of the boxes stored away, and looked at the wall that was closest to his daughters crib. There, in the neatest handwriting he could manage, painted a brilliant red against the white, were the words.

"_Hush my darling, don't fear my darling,_

_The lion sleeps tonight,_

_Hush my darling, don't fear my darling,_

_The lion sleeps tonight"_

"Sleep well, little Lion", Noah whispered.

And he closed the door.


End file.
